The Battle of Darkness and Light . Джон Мильтон

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      "By the love-locks of Bacchus, have I not a bruised shoulder to help me keep it in mind?" and he seconded the words with a shrug that submerged his ears.

      "Well, be thou grateful to the Fates--I have found thy enemy. Listen."

      Thereupon Messala turned to Drusus.

      "Tell us more of him--perpol!--of him who is both Jew and Roman--by Phoebus, a combination to make a Centaur lovely! What garments doth he affect, my Drusus?"

      "Those of the Jews."

      "Hearest thou, Caius?" said Messala. "The fellow is young--one; he hath the visage of a Roman--two; he loveth best the garb of a Jew--three; and in the palaestrae fame and fortune come of arms to throw a horse or tilt a chariot, as the necessity may order--four. And, Drusus, help thou my friend again. Doubtless this Arrius hath tricks of language; otherwise he could not so confound himself, to-day a Jew, to-morrow a Roman; but of the rich tongue of Athene--discourseth he in that as well?"

      "With such purity, Messala, he might have been a contestant in the Isthmia."

      "Art thou listening, Caius?" said Messala. "The fellow is qualified to salute a woman--for that matter Aristomache herself--in the Greek; and as I keep the count, that is five. What sayest thou?"

      "Thou hast found him, my Messala," Caius answered; "or I am not myself."

      "Thy pardon, Drusus--and pardon of all--for speaking in riddles thus," Messala said, in his winsome way. "By all the decent gods, I would not strain thy courtesy to the point of breaking, but now help thou me. See!"--he put his hand on the dice-box again, laughing--"See how close I hold the Pythias and their secret! Thou didst speak, I think, of mystery in connection with the coming of the son of Arrius. Tell me of that."

      "'Tis nothing, Messala, nothing," Drusus replied; "a child's story. When Arrius, the father, sailed in pursuit of the pirates, he was without wife or family; he returned with a boy--him of whom we speak--and next day adopted him."

      "Adopted him?" Messala repeated. "By the gods, Drusus, thou dost, indeed, interest me! Where did the duumvir find the boy? And who was he?"

      "Who shall answer thee that, Messala? who but the young Arrius himself? Perpol! in the fight the duumvir--then but a tribune--lost his galley. A returning vessel found him and one other--all of the crew who survived--afloat upon the same plank. I give you now the story of the rescuers, which hath this excellence at least--it hath never been contradicted. They say, the duumvir's companion on the plank was a Jew--"

      "A Jew!" echoed Messala.

      "And a slave."

      "How Drusus? A slave?"

      "When the two were lifted to the deck, the duumvir was in his tribune's armor, and the other in the vesture of a rower."

      Messala rose from leaning against the table.

      "A galley"--he checked the debasing word, and looked around, for once in his life at loss. Just then a procession of slaves filed into the room, some with great jars of wine, others with baskets of fruits and confections, others again with cups and flagons, mostly silver. There was inspiration in the sight. Instantly Messala climbed upon a stool.

      "Men of the Tiber," he said, in a clear voice, "let us turn this waiting for our chief into a feast of Bacchus. Whom choose ye for master?"

      Drusus arose.

      "Who shall be master but the giver of the feast?" he said. "Answer, Romans."

      They gave their reply in a shout.

      Messala took the chaplet from his head, gave it to Drusus, who climbed upon the table, and, in the view of all, solemnly replaced it, making Messala master of the night.

      "There came with me into the room," he said, "some friends just risen from table. That our feast may have the approval of sacred custom, bring hither that one of them most overcome by wine."

      A din of voices answered, "Here he is, here he is!"

      And from the floor where he had fallen, a youth was brought forward, so effeminately beautiful he might have passed for the drinking-god himself--only the crown would have dropped from his head, and the thyrsus from his hand.

      "Lift him upon the table," the master said.

      It was found he could not sit.

      "Help him, Drusus, as the fair Nyone may yet help thee."

      Drusus took the inebriate in his arms.

      Then addressing the limp figure, Messala said, amidst profound silence, "O Bacchus! greatest of the gods, be thou propitious to-night. And for myself, and these thy votaries, I vow this chaplet"--and from his head he raised it reverently--"I vow this chaplet to thy altar in the Grove of Daphne."

      He bowed, replaced the crown upon his locks, then stooped and uncovered the dice, saying, with a laugh, "See, my Drusus, by the ass of Silenus, the denarius is mine!"

      There was a shout that set the floor to quaking, and the grim Atlantes to dancing, and the orgies began.

      CHAPTER XIII

       Table of Contents

      Sheik Ilderim was a man of too much importance to go about with a small establishment. He had a reputation to keep with his tribe, such as became a prince and patriarch of the greatest following in all the Desert east of Syria; with the people of the cities he had another reputation, which was that of one of the richest personages not a king in all the East; and, being rich in fact--in money as well as in servants, camels, horses, and flocks of all kinds--he took pleasure in a certain state, which, besides magnifying his dignity with strangers, contributed to his personal pride and comfort. Wherefore the reader must not be misled by the frequent reference to his tent in the Orchard of Palms. He had there really a respectable dowar; that is to say, he had there three large tents--one for himself, one for visitors, one for his favorite wife and her women; and six or eight lesser ones, occupied by his servants and such tribal retainers as he had chosen to bring with him as a body-guard--strong men of approved courage, and skillful with bow, spear, and horses.

      To be sure, his property of whatever kind was in no danger at the Orchard; yet as the habits of a man go with him to town not less than the country, and as it is never wise to slip the bands of discipline, the interior of the dowar was devoted to his cows, camels, goats, and such property in general as might tempt a lion or a thief.

      To do him full justice, Ilderim kept well all the customs of his people, abating none, not even the smallest; in consequence his life at the Orchard was a continuation of his life in the Desert; nor that alone, it was a fair reproduction of the old patriarchal modes--the genuine pastoral life of primitive Israel.

      Recurring to the morning the caravan arrived at the Orchard--"Here, plant it here," he said, stopping his horse, and thrusting a spear into the ground. "Door to the south; the lake before it thus; and these, the children of the Desert, to sit under at the going-down of the sun."

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